


and the shore so far away

by likewinning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, in other news i belong in a trash bin, jason is sixteen-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 13:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3571928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Bruce meets Jason he isn't trying to boost his tires, he's on a street corner trying to talk Bruce into taking him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the shore so far away

He's sixteen, maybe. Dark hair and blue eyes, jeans torn at the knees, boots so scuffed it's hard to tell what color they used to be. He's not dressed warm enough for how cold the night is going to get, and that's the only reason Bruce stops when the kid says, "Hey, man, you got a light?"

That's the only reason.

Bruce stops, and Bruce Wayne doesn't smoke, but he always has a lighter handy for the throng of women he dates. The kid pulls a tattered pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, sticks one in his mouth, and when Bruce lights the cigarette for him, he makes a show of sucking in hard on the filter, looking up at Bruce through his lashes.

"Thanks, man," the kid says. Bruce nods, and he knows he needs to walk away, that soon enough he'll be needed elsewhere in the city –

The kid's hand brushes his wrist when he lowers the lighter. "So, I'm Jason," he says. "I'd ask who you are, but even _I've_ seen your picture in the paper."

Bruce tries to flash him the usual smile, the empty dazzling thing he offers to reporters and house guests, but it comes out more nervous than anything. "I suppose I do get around," Bruce agrees.

"Mm hm," the boy – Jason – says. He takes another drag from his cigarette, licks his lips, and Bruce is waiting for it –

"So maybe you want to get around with _me_ -"

But he's still not ready for it when it comes.

He feels himself blush – and Bruce Wayne doesn't blush, not for anyone – and he takes a step back, but Jason is still holding onto his wrist, rubbing at the bone. "Come on," Jason says. "Guy like you, it'd hardly cost you a thing."

"That's," Bruce swallows. "That's not exactly the issue here. You're – I'm old enough to be your _father_."

Which is also not the issue, not exactly, but Bruce – Jason smiles at him, and it's like someone turned on a light, like everything suddenly got warmer.

"I doubt it," Jason says. He pushes himself off the wall and steps up to Bruce – he's small, Batman could _crush_ him – and tilts his head up, and Bruce can see circles under his eyes, a rip in the collar of his t-shirt. "I mean, _look_ at you."

"What can I say? I've lived a good life," Bruce says, still trying to be Bruce Wayne, still trying to be _him_.

"But not good enough," Jason says. "Come on, man. Take me home. You can afford it."

And the thing is, he absolutely _can't_. Not now, not –

"Please?" Jason says. He lowers his voice, and it's as if there's no traffic, no one else around for miles. "It's getting cold. I bet you can keep me warm."

It's a stupid line, and it makes Bruce laugh, and –

"My car," Bruce says. "It's down the block."

Jason's smile turns to something fierce, something that makes Bruce shiver, but he stamps out his cigarette and follows Bruce to his car. Bruce doesn't know what possessed him to give Alfred the night off, how he could have known –

In the car, Jason turns to him. "Okay," he says. "Fifty for a blowjob. A hundred bucks to fuck me. Any weird shit –"

"Jason," Bruce cuts him off, stops Jason from putting his hand on his thigh. "We're not doing this." He starts the car, realizes he still has it on police scanner frequency and switches it over.

"I'm giving you someplace to stay tonight. It's going to get cold. And then in the morning –"

From the mirror, Bruce can see Jason scowl at him. "Look," Jason says. "I appreciate the concern, and whatever, but if this is gonna end with you carting me off to some social worker –"

"Jason," Bruce tries. "Let me –"

"Save it, rich boy," Jason says. He reaches for the handle on his door, and Bruce grabs his arm and pulls him back in before Jason ends up in traffic.

" _Stay_ ," he says, and it's not Bruce Wayne's voice that comes out of him, not –

Jason stays, breathes out, "Fuck. Okay."

They're quiet for the next ten minutes. Jason fusses with the radio stations until Bruce's head hurts, rolls the window down and sticks his hand out of the car to catch the breeze until Bruce tells him not to, lights a cigarette with the lighter he already stole from Bruce until Bruce tosses the cigarette out the window. He tries not to notice the way Jason seems to be _trying_ to provoke him, now.

He tries.

He hasn't been in the penthouse in months, but when they get upstairs the place is spotless, as beautiful and empty as ever. Jason lets out a whistle, turning around to look at everything. Bruce follows him until Jason stops outside the balcony, staring at the city skyline like he's never seen it before.

"It doesn't look like such a mess from all the way up here, does it?" Jason asks.

"Sometimes it still does," Bruce says.

Jason turns, and then he's not looking at the skyline at all, not looking at anything but Bruce. He leans up on his tiptoes, wraps his arms around Bruce's neck.

"Jason," Bruce says. He gets his hands on Jason's arms, meaning to pull him off, meaning –

" _Bruce_ ," Jason says, in the same tone of voice. "I'm _cold_."

"Jason, I told you, this isn't –"

Jason drops one of his hands, slides it down Bruce's chest until he reaches Bruce's belt. And Bruce can stop him, knows a hundred ways to stop him, but he –

Doesn't –

And Jason's dropping down to the floor, and his hand is in Jason's hair, and Jason looks _up_ at him and Bruce remembers being six, seven, and almost drowning in the pool at Wayne Manor, and he thinks this is exactly the same –

And then before Jason can do anything else Bruce is kneeling down, too, putting both of his hand's on Jason's face and just kissing him, devouring him, licking and sucking at Jason's mouth and he can't _stop_.

He doesn't want to stop.

Jason makes a soft sound against him, and when Bruce pulls away to let him breathe, Jason's eyes are huge, his face flushed. "Man," he says. "I never been kissed like that in my life."

Bruce shudders, feels shame twist up with desire until he can't tell the difference, can't tell anything at all. "Do it again?" Jason asks, and Bruce knows he shouldn't, knows he can't, knows he doesn't have any other choice.

He kisses Jason until his mouth is red, until his fingers are gripping at Bruce's tie and he's in Bruce's lap and begging Bruce to touch him, and Bruce does, gets his hand in Jason's jeans and strokes him, holds onto him when he bites down on Bruce's shoulder and comes.

The signal's in the sky by the time Bruce leaves Jason on the couch with a blanket and the remote control. When Alfred asks, he doesn't say where he's been.


End file.
